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Unhappily Ever After; ~Drake Love~
Topic Started: Dec 3 2011, 04:38 AM (45 Views)
Drake
Drake Love
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A roaring fire is crackling in a large stone enclosure. A large red hard backed chair is lined with gold beading. Seated in the chair is none other than Drake Love. He is draped in a midnight black suit with a white striped shirt underneath. He has a black tie with gold stripes on and his shiny bald head glitters in firelight.

In his hand is a gold leafed book, leather-bound and thick. A long red ribbon hangs from off the book. It sits in Drake’s hand as he slowly turns a page with his free hand. He removes his reading glasses from his stoic face and places them on the wooden end table.


Drake: Do you know what I enjoy most about fairy tales? No matter how repugnant the villain is, no matter how demented the plot, or sinister the deeds, the hero always endures and journeys forward. Now this world might be without dragons to slay, giants to topple or evil witches to foil but the forces of darkness still exist. They manifest in a different form, they are conjured from the weakness of the human will but all the same they persist. They come up with their diabolical little ploys to conquer their perceptions of the world and while they are less fantastical than Brothers Grimm envisioned, they makes them no less despicable.

Sitting upon the table on a small saucer is a English muffin covered in lemon marmalade. Drake softly picks up one of the muffin halves and takes a deliberate bite. He places it back it on the saucer and chews before swallowing.

Drake: Most fables feature a generic evil, represented in many different facets, embodiments and statues but in the end they carry the same general themes. They are all relatable and as such are basic, boring and trite as running clichés. Mad Dawg, is exactly that, a generic evil to pose a played out threat to the forces of good.

Drake places the red silk ribbon in between his left index finger and thumb. He gently places the bookmark in between the pages. He closes the book but keeps his hand wrapped around the leather-bound cover.

Drake: A few weeks ago you abducted my mother. My mother. I have done some low things myself, been the big bad around FIW in my days and have plenty of blood on my hands. But you had to take it to that one step too far. Not that this is unpredicted for the cliché villain but still unforgivable. I know what you were trying to achieve. And it worked, I was livid for weeks but I was smart enough not to respond. Instead I spent these past weeks calmly gathering my emotions and putting them in check. Emotional men are usually the folly of defeat. And beating you seemed the greatest form of vengeance. Your ego is what you hold most…precious. Dismantling what you hold dear seems the best way to level the debt that you now owe me. And trust me, I always get what is owed to me boy.

Drake looks into the fire with a far away gaze. His mind drifts to the incident of Mad Dawg kidnapping Drake’s mother and a rage briefly flashes across his face. It subsides though and he brings his face to the emotionless mask it once was.

Drake: This dance we have skirted about has been years in the making. The epic battle between good and evil, light and darkness in a final struggle for the survival and fate of the world. Well perhaps this match lacks the melodrama of the end rule of all humanity but that doesn’t alter the fact that we are going to end this for once and for all. One will fall, one will rise, and so forth. I could go on and on with the poetic metaphors filled with literary embroidery but at some point it becomes overdone. Let’s go ahead and discuss the important matters, boil it down to the bones of the issue.

Drake picks up the already bitten English muffin but after a moment he sets it back on the place. It seems the discussion of Mad Dawg’s vile ways has caused Drake to lose his appetite.

Drake: You are a bully, a thug, a bastard, a creep, and a pathetic coward of which slime exists where you backbone should be. You are the dog crap that gets stuck to the bottom of a shoe. Mad Dawg, you have fooled yourself into thinking that you are far more relevant than you ever possibly could be. You gloat about what a menace you were in GWW, those days are gone and lost to dust. Even so, I toppled you there and put you down when you considered yourself the alpha dog, and I didn’t even have issue with you then. You say I barely survived that encounter, what do you think is going to happen to you now that you have gotten my full attention? This isn’t about titles, about glory, or any accolades. This is about me putting my fist into your fist repeatedly until you cry like a little girl. You wanted the wrath of Drake, you are going to get that and more.


The book is still in his hand and he looks down upon it. He taps the leather bindings on the side and looks thoughtfully at the book.

Drake: Even story from these fabled and beloved stories has a common lesson. Be careful what you wish for. That everything has a price be it a magical wish or chasing one’s obsession. From Moby Dick to Rumpelstilskin to even the Little Mermaid, the real tale not Disney’s flowery retelling. Did you know that the Little Mermaid casts herself into the sea after her failings due to the realization of what her wish has cost her? Anyways, my point is that everything has a price. Now I won’t ask for your voice, your first born child, or anything else of that nature. What I will be coming for is your soul boy. I will be coming for your blood Mad Dawg. Be careful what you wish for, you asked for the anger of the storm and believe me it will be unleashed on Sunday. Story time is over.

Drake stands up from his chair and remains in place for a long second. He looks at the camera with the fire dancing in his pupils and a icy glare that comes from within. Without looking at the fireplace behind me, he tosses the book into the flames and allows the pages to be consumed. He doesn’t give a second look back as he strides away.
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